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He awoke with a start to an agony of
remorse and self-reproach.

9

For a time he lay quite still staring at the darkness, then he
groaned and turned over. Then, suddenly, like one who fancies he
hears a strange noise, he sat up in bed and listened. "Oh, God!" he
said at last.
And then: "Oh! The DIRTINESS of life! The dirty muddle of life!
"What are we doing with life? What are we all doing with life?
"It isn't only this poor Milly business. This only brings it to a
head. Of course she wants money. . . ."
His thoughts came on again.
"But the ugliness!
"Why did I begin it?"
He put his hands upon his knees and pressed his eyes against the
backs of his hands and so remained very still, a blankness beneath
his own question.
After a long interval his mind moved again.
And now it was as if he looked upon his whole existence, he seemed
to see in a large, clear, cold comprehensiveness, all the wasted
days, the fruitless activities, the futilities, the perpetual
postponements that had followed his coming to London.


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